


Heatwave

by thejourneymaninn



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Casual Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension, pre-fenders - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 05:12:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12549808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejourneymaninn/pseuds/thejourneymaninn
Summary: On a trip to the Wounded Coast, Fenris accidentally lets slip that a certain mage might not be entirely unattractive. Now what’s Anders supposed to do with that information? Take matters into his ownmouthhands, of course.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter was originally posted for Fenders Friday (‘Heat’) on tumblr. I’d intended to leave it at that, but Anders and Fenris had other plans…

The heat was merciless, pressing down on the city in a thick soup of stale air, stench, and humidity. It crept into every corner, clung to the houses, the people, and it stayed, sweltering days turning into sweltering weeks. Not even darkness brought relief. It had been over a month since Fenris had last had a full night’s sleep.

They’d all been eager to get out of Kirkwall, but it turned out it wasn’t any better at the Wounded Coast or as Hawke had newly dubbed it: Sunstroke Shore. There wasn’t even a fight to be had; the countless bandits that plagued the area had apparently relocated to a shadier place. Perhaps it was for the best. Fenris had little doubt his hands would blister if he dared touch his sword.

With skin like parchment and eyes as heavy as if he were crying sand, he dragged himself along the path down to the water for a much-needed break. Baked dirt and wilting bushes, bleached of colour by the sun’s never-ending attack, there was bleakness all around them, no rest for his tired gaze, nothing pleasant to see for miles.

Except…

Fenris stopped in his tracks, his toes barely touching the lukewarm foam. Right in front of him, a few feet further in the ocean… Anders, shirt carelessly tossed in the sand, a small smile on his lips as he splashed water onto his face, waves lapping at his waist, rolling off skin as blinding as the sun. Skinny and scarred, his complexion was ample proof he spent too much of his time underground. The sight should not have been appealing. And yet Fenris couldn’t take his eyes off him.

“What's gotten into you? Seen an abomination on the waves?”

 _You mean besides you?_ was what he should have said, what he had _meant_ to say, but dazzled by…the sun…bright white and silky, a path of freckles above glittering drops caught in small copper curls... the overcooked stew in his skull sent something quite different past his lips.

“You’re hot.”

It was little more than a murmur, half-lost to the crashing of the waves and the cries of seagulls.

Anders’ brow furrowed. “What was that?”

“I said ‘it is hot’. And you are not the only one trying to cool down. Now get out of the way.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

While the water had offered temporary relief, it hadn’t been long before exhaustion had taken hold of him. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one in need of rest; his friends had started leaving the waves at roughly the same time and gone to search for little spots of shadow to hide in. If anyone needed proof of just how brutally, unbearably hot it was, Hawke had left a chest full of (Fenris presumed) torn trousers and raven feathers untouched, claiming it was “simply too hot to carry anything anyway” and even declined Isabela’s offer to “go explore the nearby caves for dragons.” Which might have been a euphemism. Or a joke, Fenris couldn’t tell; his brain had been liquefied to a point where even the simplest thought had become a challenge. It didn’t matter either way, Hawke seemed utterly incapable of movement, and his beard looked in serious danger of erupting into flames at any moment.

Fenris had found himself a tiny patch of shadow under a gnarled tree that looked as if it was in as much need of water as the rest of them. A little way off the shore, he was far away enough from the others to be left in peace, yet not so far he wouldn’t be able to assist them against potential enemies. In the unlikely case someone actually still possessed the energy to attack them. A rage demon, perhaps, those probably had no complaints when it came to heat.

He lay back, gazing into the canopy of leaves that had seen better days and fighting not to fall asleep. Perhaps they should save themselves the trouble of walking all the way home through burning sand and just fall asleep right where they were – inside, outside, it hardly mattered; the heat was everywhere. Yes, he thought as his eyes started to slip shut, yes, that was a good idea, certainly, falling asleep to the sound of the waves in the distance…

A second shadow joined the one cast by the tree.

“You think I’m hot!”

A glance through his drooping lids revealed Anders standing over him. His fried brain didn’t fully process the mage’s words, but something about his voice was exceedingly too triumphant

“What are you talking about?” he slurred.

“That’s what you said earlier, in the water. You said I was hot.” His tone was one of pure delight, and it punched Fenris right in the stomach as surely as if it had been his fist. On the plus side, the fog in his mind instantly lifted. On the negative side: everything else.

“It took me a while to put it together, but that’s what you said, isn’t it?” The mage continued in the same gleeful manner. “ _That’s_ why you were staring at me. Because you like what you see.”

“I did no such thing,” Fenris replied, voice even. Was his voice even? _Please_ , let his voice be even.

“Oh, you _so_ did. Admit it. Or don’t, but I know I’m right, and I’ll keep sitting here until you do. This place is quite lovely, now that I think of it.” And with that, he flopped down onto the sand next to Fenris, without the slightest trace of shame, a huge grin still splitting his stupid sexy face neatly in two.

Several minutes passed but Anders didn’t seem to mind, he kept humming, drumming his fingers against his legs and, much too Fenris’ annoyance, grinning.

“Fine,” Fenris snapped at last, determined to at least get this over with quickly, “you are attractive. Now leave me be.”

“You think I’ll let you get away that easy?” Anders said with a grating laugh. “Besides, I can’t deprive you of my hotness, can I, we wouldn’t want you to start freezing.”

In reply, Fenris threw a pointed glance at the blazing ball above them. There were also balls in front of him, almost level with his face, and the more he saw of Anders’ smug grin, the more he wanted to kick them…and perhaps also lick them, but that was a secret he would take to his grave.

He needed to get away from the mage, and it didn’t look as though Anders could be persuaded to leave. Not wasting any more words on a hopeless cause, Fenris got up and stormed off towards one of the small caves that dotted the cliffs. They were half-flooded and sticky-hot, with an unpleasant smell of seaweed and rot to top it off, but at least he’d be alone in there, with no one to harass or humiliate him.

As it turned out, he’d been wrong about that last part. He was able to enjoy exactly one minute of silence before Anders strolled into view.

“Hey, wait a minute!”

“You’ve had your fun, mage, you made me look like a fool. Why must you keep pestering me?”

Anders’ face did something odd. If Fenris hadn’t known the mage was incapable of such a sensation, he would have thought he looked… contrite. “Oh…I…I didn’t mean to…well, alright, I did, but just a little. Guess I got carried away. It wasn’t about that. I just wanted you to admit it so I could safely admit that…you are hot too.”

Fenris’ jaw took a dive straight for the ground. Lips flapping with all the elegance of a seagull drunk on dwarven ale, he finally managed to croak, “What?”

“I…well…” Anders began to stammer. It took him uncharacteristically long to get out the words, and they were interspersed with lots of ahems and clearing his throat. “Don’t you ever…miss…touch?”

Still at peak eloquence, Fenris continued to gape at him. Fitting, he supposed, considering he felt (and most likely smelled) like a dried-up fish.

“I just thought we could, you know, have a little fun, enjoy our respective hotness…” Anders suddenly seemed very interested in the puddles of water at his feet. He’d caught up with Fenris at a slightly elevated part of the cave, but it was still far from dry.

He had to have misheard him. “Why would you…with me…”

The mage let out an impatient sigh. “Look at me, do you have any idea how long it’s been? I thought that part of my life was over, and I've accepted it...but that doesn't mean I don't miss it. I can’t actually _be_ with anyone, I couldn’t give them what they deserve, I’d only put them at risk, but you, you don’t even like me, you’d never want me this way. It’d be safe. We wouldn’t owe each other anything, it would just be…fun.”

“That I find you attractive does not mean that I trust you.”

Anders rolled his eyes. “I know. Believe me, I don’t trust you either. We may not be close—“

“That is an understatement.”

“--but it would at least be something more than just…strangers rutting. I’d be good to you. I mean, let’s face it, Hawke would kill me if I wasn’t. In case my word isn’t enough. And he’ll kill you if you’re not good to me so…like I said, safe.”

It was impossible. Anders could not be serious. And Fenris certainly didn’t want to… Well, he _kind of_ did, but surely they couldn’t? It had to be a joke, Anders would never seriously consider…

The mage seemed to (correctly) interpret his silence as indecision. “How about this, I’ll show you some fun first, right now, no strings attached, and _then_ you decide. If it turns out you’re not interested, we’ll never mention it again.”

Had Anders always been this fast, or had Fenris’ senses simply been slowed by the heat? He barely had time to blink before the mage was on his knees, on his knees for _him_ in the brackish water, a saucy grin plastered on his face...

“So, can I take the fact that there hasn’t been any fatal fisting yet as a yes…?” Anders asked, cocking his head and fluttering his lashes.

Fenris’ mind was still lost in the sight in front of him. All he managed was something that he hoped would pass for a nod.

“I need words, Fenris, I won’t touch you unless I can be sure you want me to.” Anders was looking straight at him, his grin replaced with something closer to a smile, something more genuine, almost like…affection.

“Yes…yes you may…touch me.”

The smile turned back into a grin, but it was softer now. “Does that include touching you with my mouth?”

He raised his chin, determined to hide his nervousness and retain at least some of his dignity. “It does.”

Anders had begun unlacing his leggings before he’d even finished the sentence. Running his nose along the outline of his cock, the mage nuzzled against the leather, smiling up at him. “Someone’s a lot more eager than they let on.” This time, he didn’t wait for Fenris’ reaction; in one determined motion, he pulled down both leggings and smallclothes. With an appreciative purr, he rubbed his nose against Fenris’ shaft once more, now that there was no fabric between them. “Mmm, very nice. So _that’s_ not the reason you insist on carrying a sword bigger than yourself…”

And then everything was reduced to Anders’ tongue, warm and wet and oh so soft, even its rough spots were exquisite, not at all like the coarse feel of fingers. It circled him slowly, teased him with a series of little nudges with the tip of his tongue and the odd broad stroke with the flat. His fingers found their way to Fenris’ balls, trailed across his skin, their touch gentle, careful, quite unlike his usual demeanour. He let his tongue slide down his cock, making his way from the tip to the base at a torturously slow pace, and placed tiny kisses and licks between the fingers still busy caressing him before he, with one final smirk from beneath exaggeratedly fluttering lashes, closed his lips around him. Fenris wouldn’t have expected Anders’ to be capable of getting straight to the point, yet he swallowed him down without preamble, taking him deep into his mouth, so incredibly deep, he was all around him, soft and wet and _everywhere_ and Fenris lost the ability to breathe. And the ability to think, any and all awareness of his surroundings slipping. The heat against his skin paled compared to that of Anders’ mouth, the lapping of water at his feet became one with that of the mage’s tongue, the rapid bobbing of his head - faster, faster, and faster still, how was that even possible – driving him close, closer… Stopping abruptly for a few licks, a bite to his hip, a wink, a soft smack to his ass, a tender rolling of his balls through gentle fingers, an infuriating, beautiful grin on Anders’ face as he placed soft kisses all over his cock and then hovered over him, ghosting open-mouthed, the heat so close, teasing him, cruel, delicious, perfect…

Fenris let out a sound that he’d later tell himself was a huff, or perhaps a groan, not a whine, no, he was _not_ pleading to be back inside Anders’ mouth, not biting his lip to keep himself from whimpering….

Finally, finally, he felt Anders’ lips slide back over his shaft, drawing him in. The mage got back to bobbing his head, picking up speed, and Fenris had trouble remaining on his feet. His hands were in Anders’ hair – had he put them there, when had he done that, he couldn’t remember, but it felt so good twined around his fingers, soft and coarse at the same time, slightly damp and scraggly with sea and salt, and he was pulling and twisting harder than he probably should, harder than he meant to, holding on to him, forcing himself deeper, urging him on.

Anders offered no resistance. In fact, he began to move faster. His hand grabbed Fenris’ hip, his fingers digging into it hard enough to be felt, to leave a mark. The sensation was…pleasant, Fenris realized with surprise as he threw back his head, as everything went still for that one, blissful moment of quiet, as the tightness snapped and he was free. In the tiny corner of himself that was still dimly aware he _had_ a self, he felt Anders’ throat working around him, revelled in the realisation that he was spilling himself in _Anders’ mouth._ The rest of him was floating, dazed, blinking into the twilight of the cave. Stench, heat, sticky clothes and uncomfortable dampness…slowly, it all came back into focus.

Including Anders’ face, still stretched around his cock. His hair a mess, flushed, eyes watering, he looked wrecked, raw, but when he pulled back, there was a grin on his face. He wiped his fingers across his mouth and chin in a gesture Fenris had no doubt was deliberately languid, made an equally elaborate show of licking them clean, gave Fenris’ cock a little wipe down with his sleeve and got up, his grin still firmly in place and so cocky no one would have believed he’d just had his throat fucked. 

“Well, let me know what you decide. Take as long as you need.”

Making no attempt to hide his own, rather prominent arousal, he turned around and walked towards the mouth of the cave.

He made it halfway before Fenris called after him.

“I have made my decision. Stay.”

 


End file.
